


what's owed to them?

by bisexualsirius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), blackinnon, first wizarding war, mentions of the others - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22746436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualsirius/pseuds/bisexualsirius
Summary: With the war picking up around them, Marlene writes a letter to Sirius to read after her death. Sirius find it.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Marlene McKinnon
Kudos: 16





	what's owed to them?

_Dear Sirius_

_If you find this letter, I’ve died. With everything the way it is, it was bound to happen -_

Mar sighed and crumpled up the parchment, tossing it. That didn’t sound right, too much like she was admitting defeat and giving up. That wasn’t her style, and it wasn’t the reason she wanted to write this letter. Sounding like she resigned herself to the war would bring him pain. It needed to provide some comfort, a final goodbye if they didn’t have the chance to say it. 

_The Daily Prophet_ sat on the table in her reach. Today’s headline proclaiming a family of four had been killed last night, the accompanying picture showing the dark mark above a cottage. Aurors found Edgar Bones and his entire family slaughtered just last week. Two weeks before, they buried Dorcas Meadows after she was tortured and killed by Voldemort himself. James and Lily were going into hiding, the madman marking Harry as the child of the prophecy. The war was picking up and the Order was struggling to win against the endless tides of death eaters far outnumbering them. Skilled wizards were dying all the time. Every single day Marlene woke up and wondered if today would be the day that she would die. Or Sirius. Or Remus or Peter or another one of their few friends that were still alive.

So Marlene sat at the kitchen table of the small flat she shared with Sirius, trying to write a letter he would only open if she died. It took weeks for her to reach this point. Every time she built up the courage to start, Sirius would walk into the flat, back from a mission or grocery shopping. He would ask what she was doing, Marlene would brush it off as writing a letter to one of her brothers. They’d get distracted, and she would abandon the letter for another time. No distractions this time though; Sirius had gone to visit the Potters one last time before they went into hiding, so he would be gone at least an hour. Marlene had said her goodbyes the day before. 

Two more pieces of parchment shared the same fate as the one before. Everything sounded wrong, insincere, fake, hopeless. Not anything like she wanted it to. Marlene saw what happened when Sirius found out Regulus had died and didn’t want a repeat of that. He was inconsolable, many nights of sobbing himself to sleep and days of wandering around the flat in a stupor. Only eating because Marlene was there to remind him. Only going to bed because Marlene would guide him there. It broke her heart seeing him like that. The only reason the grief didn’t consume him for good was that they didn’t let it happen. James, Lily, Remus, Peter, along with herself spent those two weeks caring for him, trying to provide some sort of comfort. Stopping him from letting the abyss of his grief and guilt engulf him.

If Marlene died, she wasn’t sure who would be there. James and Lily had to stay in hiding for Harry’s sake, Peter was around less and less, and Remus… she wasn’t sure what happened but Sirius once confided in her that he didn’t entirely trust him anymore. That maybe he was letting information slip - Marlene told him that was daft and Remus would never sell them out and that was the last they spoke of it. Still, it seemed the bond was broken and neither party attempted to fix it.

This letter needed to somehow provide Sirius the comfort they all had before. It needed to stop him from losing himself because Marlene couldn’t bear the thought of causing him so much pain. It had to remind him of how much she loved him, to alleviate the guilt he was sure to have, no matter how ridiculous it was. They both jumped headfirst into fighting the war, but he wouldn’t remember that. He would blame himself for not doing enough. 

“Fuck,” Marlene sighed, scrapping yet another draft. She was putting too much pressure on a piece of parchment, but what was she to do? She wrote for a living, and now the words she desperately needed were out of reach. Just her luck. Pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes, she groaned. At this rate, Sirius would be back before she wrote a single sentence that didn’t make her want to set the parchment on fire. He always joked that she was never happy with ‘just fine,’ always pushing herself for ‘the best.’

_“Isn’t this article just about the Harpies match?” Sirius asked, glancing at the piles of parchment around her, all will only a few lines crossed out._

_Marlene huffed, her head resting on the table. “It needs to be good.”_

_“Not good, the best,” he teased a little. Nudging her to raise her head, Sirius set a mug of tea in front of her before sitting in the chair beside her. “I’m sure all of these were good. You just think too much-”_

_Marlene wrapped her hands around the mug, taking a quick sip. “As opposed to not at all?” she teased, raising an eyebrow and fighting back a grin from spreading on her face._

_“Oi- those are fighting words McKinnon!”_

“Okay just- don’t think about it,” she mumbled before trying again. 

It was like a dam broke. Marlene didn’t know how long she wrote, worrying that if she glanced at the clock, the words would halt and the letter would be abandoned for good. Setting down the quill, she looked it over once, folded it, and put it in an envelope before going to tuck it between the pages of an album. They rarely looked through these pictures anymore, the hopeful faces of their youth too painful to look at. If Sirius found the need to look through it, it would either be because he was feeling nostalgic - unlikely - or wanted to see her or their friends alive. When would he feel the need to seek out their happy faces? In a week? A month? Or years from now to show Harry - or maybe their own kids? - what they looked like during their time at school, tell stories of the trouble they got into.

Marlene hoped that when he found the letter, he could walk down the hall and ask her about it. That she would be there to explain why she wrote it, and that would be the end of the matter. They would go to meet the others for lunch, and the war would be a thing of memory.

The universe owed them that much.

But when do people ever get what’s owed to them? 

\----- 

Marlene was buried on a Tuesday alongside her family. It was a bright, clear June day. It made Sirius want to scream. The world didn’t deserve to be so happy when everything had been taken away from him. His suit itched. Usually Marlene would stand beside him when he wore this suit, the two mourning yet another fallen member of the Order.

But Marlene wasn’t beside him, she was in the coffin being lowered in the ground.

James and Lily, as much as they wanted to attend, couldn’t, not even under the cloak. Remus was there, but stood away from Sirius. Most of the Order was there - whoever was alive anyway. People made speeches about how the world had lost a bright soul. They had no idea. Marlene was the best of them, the best of _him_. He could feel the eyes on him, pitying, expecting him to break down. 

He said nothing.

He was the first to leave, not able to bear any more condolences, though spending time in ~~their~~ _his_ flat was worse. The week he heard the news, he fell into a stupor. If he wasn’t drunk and sobbing, he was in their bed, staring at the ceiling. The absence of her beside him was clearer than ever on the nights he passed out in their bed, there was no one he had to fight for the covers from, no hair in his face, no one mumbling _“Budge over.”_ Every time he walked into the flat, he expected her to be singing along to the radio in the kitchen as she baked. Or lounging on the couch, reading some book that Lily had suggested. Or sitting among a pile of parchment as another deadline loomed above her. 

Contrary to what many might have expected, the flat was immaculate. He took off his shoes at the door and placed them to the side. His coat hung properly in the closet. He never destroyed possessions when mourning; no, his upbringing kicked in and while he would destroy himself, everything in the flat went in its place.

It was perfect. It was sterile. It was no longer a home.

There used to be jackets slung over chairs, a mug of tea here, Marlene’s slippers constantly forgotten in different places around the flat. It hadn’t been messy, but it had been _theirs_. Comfortable. A refuge from the war. No matter how bad things got, everything seemed better once he stepped inside. They would patch each other up after missions, dream about a life after the war, mumble confessions that they would never share with anyone else, all within this flat. Stave away nightmares of the things they did to survive. The war couldn’t touch them here because they were together. 

It was a grave now.

Staying here, with the ghosts of their life together haunting his every move was unbearable. Sirius had already told James he was moving, a new flat already chosen. His belongings packed away neatly in boxes. Marlene’s were still sitting there, awaiting their fate. He couldn’t bear to part with them, his last remains of her, but they hurt to look at for the same reason. 

After changing out of the funeral suit, he grabbed a box from the top shelf of the closet and sat on the bed, reaching for the half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey on the nightstand. _I have to get more later._ Popping off the cap, he took a swig before taking things out of it. There were movie tickets from their first date. A newspaper from which they found out Regulus had died. Childhood pictures of Marlene, James making an appearance of many of them after she turned eight. A handful of his own. Some of Marlene’s quidditch medals.

And an album of their school years.

They hadn’t touched the album since they joined the Order; it felt wrong to see them so carefree after constantly being bombarded by the horrors of war. It hurt to see the people they used to be before they were thrown into this mess, who they could have been if they weren’t. Sirius flipped it open and drank more. None of that mattered now. Marlene had just been buried, with her the dreams they shared of life after all this was over. He deserved a glimpse of her alive. 

He almost didn’t notice the envelope that slipped out. That was strange. Picking it up, he saw it was addressed to him in Marlene’s measured writing. He wasn’t sure how long he spent just staring at it. Why did she put this in here? Did it even matter anymore? Wasn’t like he could go ask her about it. Snapping out of it, he opened the envelope and took the letter out, taking three sips from the bottle to steel himself before unfolding it.

_Sirius,  
_

_I really hope you never find this letter. You’re out visiting the Potters now, and I hope you remember to buy that toy broom on your way back. Harry’ll love it, and it’ll freak James out a bit, which’ll be fun for Lily. Can you believe the little bugger’s turning one soon?  
_

_Right, I’m getting off topic. Look, if you’re reading this, it probably means I’m dead. I hope to Merlin that I’m wrong and you can go tease me about this-_

He let out a watery laugh at that. He’d give anything to do that. But he was alone. No James, no Lily, no Peter, no Remus, no one at all at his side. She left him here alone.

_-and I can tell you to bugger off and that times were different. They are different. Everyone’s dropping dead, better wizards than us. I guess that’s what pushed me to write this. It’s been nagging at me for a while now, but — I don’t know, things feel more urgent now._

_Right. Well, there’s really only one important thing I have to tell you: whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault. Don’t start thinking you didn’t protect me enough, that you put me in danger, that would be an insult to my memory. I chose to fight this war as much as you did. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s Voldemort and his lot._

_Living in this war feels like I’m living on borrowed time, but that’s fine. I got to spend that time with you, and that is something I’ll never regret. You made me so so happy, even when we fought, even when you were off on a mission and I was up worrying, even when you felt you were becoming more like the Blacks, which is rubbish. You may share similarities with them love, but your heart is what makes you different. You are a good man, no matter what you may think. You choose to be good, and that makes all the difference in the world. We’ve all got a little darkness in us, but that doesn’t make us evil. Remember that. Please._

The tears building in his eyes made it harder to read. Sirius swiped at them, careful to make sure none fell on the letter, messing with the ink. This was his last bit of Marlene, the last gift she gave him, a lifeline. Leave it to her to worry about him when faced with death. Merlin, he loves - loved that woman.

_I love you. I’ve said it a thousand times and I hope I’ll get to say it a thousand more. If these are the last years of my life, I’m honoured to have shared them with you. Mourn me as long as you need, but don’t shut the others out. Talk to them, let them help you. Keep some of my things and throw away the rest. I don’t want to be a ghost to you Sirius. I don’t want to be the reason you die either, so don’t let the need for revenge consume you. Let me go when you’re ready and move on. Live through this war and find happiness. You deserve all the happiness in the world. The universe owes you that much._

_Have a long, happy life Sirius. Fall in love again. I know you don’t believe in anything after death, but I hope to see you again one day. Make sure you have some good stories to tell, yeah?_

_I love you._

_Marlene._

The universe owed them more time.

But when did people ever get what they were owed?


End file.
